


A Lesson in Bathing

by shemlentrash (Jess_X)



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hand Jobs, Praise Kink, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 14:04:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4628034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jess_X/pseuds/shemlentrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris practices his reading comprehension. Hawke wants a bubble bath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lesson in Bathing

**Author's Note:**

> Absolute useless fluff, with a good large dash of sexual touching. WARNING for slight Dom!Hawke/ sub!Fenris, and brief allusions to the nonconsensual relationship Fenris had with Danarius and the bruise it left on his psyche.

Fenris was straining his eyes by Hawke’s fireplace, pouring over the pages of a book. It was one she had given him some time ago, and he had been working his way through it over the last few months. He sat cross-legged on the ground, in loose clothing that Hawke had lent him. It wasn’t his usual garb, but it was comfortable for sitting this way, and for sleeping.

The letters he stared at were a jumble, and made no sense. He knew it was an uninteresting a history book, but that made little difference. He caught a few words here and there, the memory of Hawke’s recent lessons still fresh in his mind, but mostly of the pages looked like nothing more than a bizarre spattering of illegible symbols.

He had finally reached the verge of throwing the book into the fire, when there came a soft voice behind him. “Hard at work, I see.” He glanced over his shoulder to meet his lover’s smile with a tense grimace, shifting a little on the floor.

“This is your doing, you know,” he snapped, but his cheeks were pink, and she knew he was not actually angry.

“I know,” she said with an airy smile, kneeling to sit behind him. “May I?” She reached out, her fingers hesitating an inch from his shoulder. He smiled appreciatively at the request for consent to touch him, and nodded. She hummed happily when she slipped her arms around his shoulders, and nuzzled her chin into the warm crook of his neck. “How’s the reading?”

He shrugged, feeling his face grow hot. “Fine,” he lied.

Hawke snorted. “You know I can see right through you, love. Always could.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled irritably. Sighing, he tossed the book aside, and pulled briefly away from Hawke to spin around and face her, sitting back on his heels to admire her hands in his. “You’re the worst.”

She laughed. It sparked a light in his chest as it always did, one he could not explain or describe. “Yeah, yeah. I know.” She leaned forward, and kissed his nose. When she pulled back, smiling goofily, he rolled his eyes, but the flush in his cheeks could not be hidden. Fenris felt suddenly embarrassed, and looked down to trace the planes of her palms. She let him do this, biting back a giggle.

“Hey,” she said suddenly after a minute. He looked up at her again. “I’m going to have a bath. Would you want to join me?”

Fenris went so red, he could have given her family crest a run for its money. “Join…?"

"Yes," she said softly. " _Join._ As in, sit in the bath with me and I can wash your hair for you?"

"I..." He stuttered. "Hawke, I've never..." Then he went rather white, and swallowed, memories stirring in the shadows. "The only time I’ve ever bathed with another person was when the other slaves washed me to make sure I was appropriately presentable for…” He took a breath, still at times ashamed to detail his past life, even now that they’d been back together for several months. “For… whatever humiliation was in store."

Hawke shook her head quickly, and put her hands on his face, as though she understood there was a flood that needed to be stemmed. "Stop it," she insisted. "That is not what this is. That was... sick. _This..._ is love." Some pathetic ancient instinct whirred noisily in his head at this. _Master did love me_ , it whined. _All that I suffered, all that he did to me, was because Master loved me_.

All lies he’d convinced himself long ago, but still they bubbled to the surface sometimes. Fenris had long come to understand that it was not his instinct which described his character, but instead the deliberate thought which followed. He could not help the brainwashing he'd endured, but he could fight it. He would probably always be fighting it, he mused sadly. He imagined future years with Hawke, still shutting his eyes and seeing Danarius’ sneer, or feeling his touch at times when Hawke caressed him. He did not want that.

The elf placed his hands over hers, and gripped them tight, leaning his cheek into her palm. He smiled shakily, but felt determined. “I would love to,” he rumbled, praying silently that bathing in this manner would not rekindle memories of the cleaning rituals he endured before being brought to Danarius’ bed.

The Champion smiled. “Come.” She stood, and dragged him to his feet with her as she went. He groaned as he got up, his knees cracking.

“Reading is stupid anyway,” he said suddenly, catching sight of the book on the floor between them.

She laughed. “Yet you keep practicing,” she pointed out. “And I’m so proud of you for it.” She paused. "Y'know what? Take the book with us, yeah?"

Fenris went pink, and bit back a grin as he stooped to retrieve the book. Hawke said she was proud of him. That was worth all the frustration and pain in Thedas. He felt in a slight daze as she dragged him along to her washroom and shut the door behind them.

“How does this work,” he asked numbly. He was wary as he watched her move around the room, gathering soaps and cloths. When she bent over the tub, he allowed his gaze to linger on the curves of her legs.

Hawke chuckled as she righted herself again. The rush of water echoed a little in the tiny room as it slowly filled the basin with a warm pool, and the trickling sound was pleasant. “It’s like any other bath,” she said. “But!” Then she perked up excitedly in such a manner that made Fenris raise his eyebrows. “There will be cuddling, and bubbles!”

“...Bubbles?”

She nodded.

“What do you mean by bubbles?”

The Champion rolled her eyes dramatically, moving over to where Fenris stood until their bellies were flush with one another. She locked her fingers around his waist, smiling gently against his cheek. “Just trust me,” she whispered. He sighed, and placed the book on a shelf by his side. “I love you, Fenris.” His heart leapt, and he wanted to say he loved her too but his throat caught as it so often did.

Her palms trailed down his back until they found the hem of his shirt. He swallowed, and pulled his head back to look at her. He blinked, silently questioning her intentions, but she just bit her lip coyly. "May I?"

Every time she asked permission, it undid him; reminded him how much she really did love him, how much she understood that he was a marked man whose body required caution. With a deep breath, he nodded, and the shirt slipped over his head with only a little of his help. Hawke shook her head, her eyes raking over the pale lines of his torso. "Maker, you're gorgeous as ever, Fenris."

Made up of flesh that was littered with scars and stark white markings, Fenris would never understand this praise. He looked down, and all he could see was a vessel for pain, lined and dotted with reminders of his status as one man's property, no more a living creature than the dirt on Danarius’ lawn. He was only grateful he could not see for himself the scars which painted his back: old, unforgettable punishments etched into his skin with a whip, as permanent as the lyrium.

Something of the thought must have shown on his face, because suddenly Hawke shook her head again, and placed her fingers beneath his chin, tilting his face up to meet hers. “Hey,” she said firmly. “You are beautiful, Fenris. All the bullshit you give yourself, all your negativity, will never stop me from saying it.” She smiled, just as his heart twinged painfully. “Now, c’mon.” He shivered as she wrapped her arms around him again, placing her fingertips between his shoulderblades and delicately tracing down the length of his spine.

“Maker, Hawke,” he grunted. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

She laughed, and glanced pointedly downward at the space between their bodies, where his trousers tented slightly. “I think I have _some_ idea.”

Fenris could not help but smirk at this. “That isn’t what I meant,” he said gruffly, sucking in a breath. Her touch was starting to make him light headed, though that may have been due to so much of his blood rushing away from his brain. He shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. “Nevermind,” he croaked, and his voice quavered.

"No, I know what you're saying, Fenris." She was toying with the waistline of his breeches, and instinctively he responded by fiddling with the tie of her robe. It made her grin.

"You can't possibly," he said softly, chest swelling at the sight of her bare stomach. He pushed the silk aside, exposing her naked torso to him, and his breath hitched. Yet still he went on, eyes resting pleasantly on the rhythmic motion of her breasts as she breathed. "You can't possibly know how much you've given me, unless you knew how little I had before. And... you can't." His voice broke a little. “You just can’t.”

Hawke shook her head. “It doesn’t matter,” she said firmly. “I love you, and I am content to know that I can be here for you. You are…” She ran a hand down his chest, and he shuddered. Her caress tingled in several different ways, both painful and sensational. “Everything to me,” she finished quietly.

Fenris had to stop himself from flinching at her gentle words. "So," he croaked, desperate to move on from this sweet talking. "A bath, hm?" She smiled, and blushed slightly.

"Ah! Yes!" Hawke swept away from him to shrug her robe off and toss it unceremoniously into the corner. He watched, gaping a little, as she disrobed completely. Her breeches and smalls slid down her wide hips, and he had to draw a steadying breath as the clothing piled around her ankles. She was so beautiful. There was still a bruise on her thigh from the night before, and his insides pulsed warmly at the sight of it. The memory of her body echoed in his skin, the way her heat fueled his impassioned frenzy, violent and endless until both bodies ached and could not go on.

He shook his head. “Hawke,” he warned in a dangerously low voice, “This will likely become… uncomfortable.”

Hawke rolled her eyes, her hands on her hips. He drank in the curvaceous shape of her as she shifted her weight, with a raging hunger he could not swallow. “Well this doesn’t have to be _completely chaste_ , you know,” she teased.

Fenris laughed in spite of himself, a spark of relief flickering in his belly at her words. At this, he pulled his own trousers down, and stepped out of them. His smallclothes were uncomfortable against his straining erection, and he was glad to finally remove those. Hawke’s eyes strayed shamelessly between the elf’s legs, her eyebrows raised and her mouth twisted into an obscene smirk. “Oh shut up,” he growled, approaching her slowly as his own gaze raked her. The two of them were lost in the moment as it ticked by, their bodies flush against one another. Fenris’ heart hammered, and he felt Hawke’s pulse in her fingertips as they found the back of his neck, pulling him closer and closing the gap between their lips. He groaned softly against her mouth, and she sighed in response, leaning into him greedily. But just as her tongue darted out to taste him, he pulled back suddenly.

“Bath,” he reminded her breathlessly, lips pulled into a smile against hers. “Before we get too distracted.” His eyes were heavy with desire, but still he found it in himself to stop. Hawke nodded, licking her pink lips and turned back to the tub, which was almost completely filled. As the flow of water ceased, they were plunged into sudden silence, and Fenris found that he could hear his own pulse too easily. It felt strange.

She approached him again, and he smiled in response to hers. Hawke’s expressions were simply too infectious to deny. He ran a hand across her smooth back as she turned from him to feel the water, and she shuddered.

Then she turned around, and offered him a hand, looking expectant. “Come,” she said. He put his palm in hers, a little hesitant, but trusting Hawke to keep him safe. “Grab your book,” she reminded him with a bit of a smirk, and he rolled his eyes, but retrieved the book at her command. He sighed, looking down at its cover, his other hand still entwined with Hawke’s. She had stepped into the basin, and now gestured for him to follow.

The water was warm, and stepping into it sent a shiver through him as his body temperature shifted. He looked down as he plunged his other foot into the water too, and wiggled his toes. Hawke giggled, and pressed close to him again, letting go of his hands to hold his waist. “You’re pretty cute for an elf so damn broody,” she laughed, and before he could even react with annoyance, she brought her face close to his and nuzzled his nose with hers. He was so surprised, he could only stand there turning redder by the second. When she stopped to plant a small kiss on the very tip of his nose, he made a strained sound in the back of his throat and crinkled his brow in confusion, but Hawke only giggled more. Her hands crept around his hip until she was suddenly clutching his backside, and he hung his head in embarrassment.

“Is this amusing for you?” he snarled, shutting his eyes as the redness colored his ears and neck as well. “Do you, for whatever reason, enjoy making me squirm?”

“Very much so,” Hawke teased.

Fenris shook his head, then opened his eyes again. Hawke was smiling lovingly. “Come,” she said again, and sat. She was engulfed, and he watched as the water settled around the widest part of her chest. He knelt to join her, and felt the warmth spread to his extremities as he waded beneath the surface. “C’mon,” she insisted. “Sit with me. Turn around.”

He pulled a face. “You’re serious.” Her face told him plainly that she was. Fenris sighed. “Alright.” He turned, and sat between her legs, scooting back along the slippery bottom so that she could circle her arms around his torso. The markings on his back felt strange pressed up against her breasts and simultaneously submerged in warm water, but it was not altogether unpleasant.

“Hey,” she chuckled, “careful of the book.”

“I am being careful,” he snapped, holding the thing over the bath’s surface with some resentment. “Though I don’t see why it matters.”

“It matters,” Hawke insisted, “because you learning to read is important.”

“Why?” But Fenris knew why, even if he was feeling disheartened.

“Your illiteracy is another mark of your involuntary past,” she said rather gently, running her fingers up and down his stomach. It took him a moment before he realized she was tracing one of his markings. “Don’t you think you’ve got enough of those?” He swallowed tensely. She was right, of course. “If we have the power to cut down on that - don’t you think that’s worth it?”

Fenris sighed. “Of course it is.” He held up the book, and glared at it. “But this book is full of words that don’t make sense.”

“That’s not true,” Hawke laughed. “You were just getting tired. It’ll be better now that you’re comfortable and you’re with me. Trust me.”

The elf grunted and leaned forward slightly as Hawke shifted to reach over the brim of the tub. “You keep saying that, but… what are you doing?” She had retrieved from floor beside the basin a small vial, which she now held in front of him as she screwed open the top. “Hawke…”

“Trust me,” she said again, and he rolled his eyes, truly exasperated now.

“Hawke, you really try my patience,” he said, shaking his head and watching anxiously as she emptied the little bottle into the water.

Her laugh was sweet as she hugged him close, and swirled the water around him with her fingertips. “I know,” she said.

The clear, glassy surface grew restless, and fogged slowly until the entire bath was filled with pink, soapy bubbles. Fenris’ sneer of annoyance was punctuated by the blush that seemed now permanently etched onto the flesh of his face and neck. “Hawke,” he groaned, holding the book still out of harm’s way as the suds overtook them.

Hawke could not stop giggling. “What?”

“This is what you meant by bubbles.” It was not a question.

“Of course!”

“And… how exactly am I supposed to read when there is soap all over the place?”

“Oh, just try it,” she pleaded quietly. “For me?”

Hawke pooled a small amount of soapy water in her hands, then dripped it over Fenris’ hair. He winced, and scowled. “Fine,” he growled.

Hawke clapped playfully underwater, spraying him with foamy pink suds. With a groan, he opened the book, and squinted at his marked page while Hawke ran her fingers through his hair, matting it with soap. It was very distracting. To make matters worse, she began to massage his scalp, and he leaned back into her. As much as he found this whole thing completely pointless, he loved every second of it. No matter how infuriatingly silly she was, he adored her. He hummed gently as she worked her fingers against his scalp, his eyes falling pleasantly closed. He could feel her breathing against his back, and every rise and fall of her chest seemed to ease his tension. Then she cleared her throat.

“Fenris?” she laughed.

His eyes snapped open again. “Right,” he grumbled, and focused on the page again. “Okay.” He blinked. Half the words were absolutely ridiculous, and had no meaning to speak of. “‘Arl… T… Tene… Tenedor?’” He paused hesitantly, hoping Hawke would help him. But she did not, so he went on. “‘Was.. be…’ Hm. That’s... b, e, s, i, e, uh…” He could not remember which letter it was. This entire process was so humiliating. “Ugh.”

“You got this,” Hawke encouraged, and suddenly her lips were trailing along the back of his neck while her fingers still danced through his hair. It was such a pleasant feeling, Fenris imagined he could spend the rest of his life like this.

He sighed. “Okay,” he said again. “B, e, s, i, e, … oh, g… e, d. Um…” He thought for a second. “Be-see-guhd… that’s not a word.”

“Besieged,” she told him helpfully.

“That’s a stupid way of spelling that,” he mumbled.

Hawke chuckled gently. “I know. Go on. You’re doing great.”

“‘Arl Ten… Tenedor,’” he began again, “‘was besieged at his cat - no, his caste…’” Already he was growing deeply flustered. “Maker help me, this is ridiculous,” he snarled, shaking his head. Hawke’s mouth was warm on his ear a moment later, however, and he gasped. “Mm… Hawke, you’re making this… so difficult.” His belly was warm with arousal as her tongue darted out to trace the marking along the side of his neck.

“Castle,” she said.

This threw him. “What?”

“The word,” she explained breathily. “It’s ‘castle.’”

Fenris looked back at it. “Oh,” he said. “Thank you. ‘...Besieged at his castle, by Arl M - oh, Myrddin,’ I remember that name. ‘Myrddin’s… tr... troops!”

“Good!” She ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead, and let her other hand wander to his abdomen. He smiled a little.

“‘Myrddin cal - cale? Err.. cald… called! Myrddin called Tenedor o...’ Shit.”

“You know what that word is, Fenris. I know you do.”

He took a breath. “Out?” She nodded. “‘Myrddin called Tenedor out to... par... party?”

Hawke actually laughed. The sound vibrated through her, and he felt the markings on his back tingle. “Not party, though I know the words look a little similar. Look at the individual letters again.”

“Par… parl? Parlee?”

“Better! It looks that way, I know, but that’s actually parley.”

“Oh,” he mumbled. “Thanks.”

The hand on his stomach trailed downwards, and her face was still so warm on the side of his neck. It made his head a little fuzzy. “You’re doing…” She kissed his neck softly. “So well.” He bit back a moan. “I’m _so_ proud of you.” She spoke in the gentlest purr that sent a shudder through him, shaking his core and causing his groin to ache. She brushed the apex of his thighs with the back of her hand, and he actually jumped. He was growing very hard now, and he didn’t think he could stay quiet about it much longer. “Go on,” she whispered. “I’ll wash you.”

Fenris shook his head and swallowed tensely. “Hawke, you really are trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

She laughed. “Oh, hush. I love you. And you love this. Admit it.”

His lips twitched. “It’s… not bad.”

She splashed him, giggling, and he flung a handful of pink suds at her over his shoulder. He mostly missed, and wound up with bubbles on his face and in his hair. He sputtered, laughing, and Hawke smoothed the soap out of his hair for him. “You are ridiculous,” she said. “Now go on. Read!”

Fenris cleared his throat. “‘Myrddin called Tenedor out to… parley...’” Hawke nodded approvingly, and he could hear her wringing out a cloth behind him. “‘But… the… lat… latter?’” Hawke nodded again. The washcloth was warm as she brought it across his shoulder blades, and it felt wonderful. The waters trickled down his back, and his skin felt extra sensitive when he was this close to her, so vulnerable and aching for more touch.

“Yes,” she said encouragingly. “You got that right. It’s ‘latter.’ Go on!”

It was difficult to concentrate when her small, deft fingers were caressing his sensitive markings, the gentle soap and water soothing the tension in his back and relaxing his mind so that everything felt just a little bit fuzzy and further away.

“‘Sent… sent…’ uh…” The next word was strange. “‘Cal… Cah… Call… en… hade? Had! Oh, Calenhad!’” Fenris was rewarded for this with a soft kiss to the nape of his neck, and then her hands were massaging his scalp, easing through his white tresses, teasing him slowly while washing him. It was too much. “Hawke,” he murmured. “I really can’t go on when you’re… touching me like that.”

He didn’t need to see her face to know she was smirking. It was evident in the way she said, “Aw, but you are not willing to keep trying? Just a little? Just... for me?” She tugged at his hair firmly, and he gasped. He grew harder, the blood pumping violently in his veins so he was left dizzy and desperate.

“A... _anything_ … for you,” and his voice cracked as he whispered it, clutching the book in his hands a little tighter.

Hawke’s breathy chuckle in his ear sent a shiver up his spine that left his skin tingling pleasantly. “Good boy." His heart leapt. "Go on.” Her hand trailed lower, and he knew this was not going to end well.

“‘The latter sent Cal… right, Calenhad...’” Her fingers brushed his slowly hardening cock - as gently as though it were an accident. He gulped. “‘To… ehem… to…” His eyes rolled at the next word as a trickle of pleasure ran through him, and almost threw the book across the room. “Damn it, Hawke, why…?”

“Because,” she breathed. “You deserve the pride I know you feel from succeeding at something. Because you deserve all the things that he told you you did not deserve. Because I know you can.” This time, her hand wrapped around his cock deliberately. It was warm, sensitive, and he flinched at the touch. It felt very strange, hidden beneath a layer of soap and bubbles, yet still he groaned.

His breath shuddered. “Hawke,” he groaned. “Please.”

Fenris felt her shake her head against the back of his. “Not yet,” she whispered. “Read.” He could not refuse her. He was putty to her soft insistence, and it thrilled him.

Clearing his throat, the flustered elf went on. “‘... Sent Calenhad to..to im… imp.. ersin..’ oh, impersonate! ‘To impersonate him… in his steed.’ Wait…”

“Stead,” Hawke corrected him under her breath, and he was gratified to feel her tongue dart out to taste the flesh below his earlobe. He moaned at the wet impact, and nodded absentmindedly as her fingers traced indistinct shapes along the hard length of his cock beneath the water. The gust of breathy laughter was hot on the back of his neck, and every inch of his skin tingled excitedly.

“You don’t have to be so smug, y’know,” Fenris said quietly.

Hawke shrugged. “Me? Smug? I’m _never_ smug.”

Fenris grinned shakily, closing his eyes in a fool attempt to ignore the way her hands felt on him. “You arse.”

“Read!”

With a great sigh and a groan of frustration, Fenris blinked hard and stared back at the page. It seemed a miracle he had not dropped the book into the bath with them yet.

“So, where was I....? Stead, right. ‘Myrrdin in...tended to kill Ten - Tenedor during the meeting, but Calenhad d.. dice.. dis… disobe? Oh! He disobeyed his arl’s orders, and reev.. revealed? Yeah. Revealed his true identity.’”

“Good!” Hawke’s praise filled him with light, and he swooned. When he was rewarded with more touching, he whimpered.

“‘Calenhad’s c- courage and… honor… im.. impressed Myrrdin, so - so he… so he…’ Oh, _Maker’s breath_ , Hawke!” The woman's hand wrapped around him, and she exhaled softly along the sensitive markings lining his neck. Fenris thought he might very well melt in desperation. He needed more.

“Alright. Had enough?” she chuckled. He nodded immediately, with such eagerness that he felt a little pathetic.

He squirmed as her fingers trailed up his torso, tracing his markings softly and causing ripples in the foamy water. Fenris shivered, and shut the book completely, tossing it over the edge of the tub with a thud and a flap as its pages rustled in the fall.

As he settled his arms into the warm water, she held him closer. Her breasts were soft against the muscles of his back, and in his heightened state of need be could barely sense the ache of his markings where they were touching. He hummed eagerly, and she pressed her mouth against the side of his neck. His cock twitched, and he balled his hands into fists under the water, causing the bubbles around them to ripple and swirl.

Hawke’s breezy chuckle against his skin set his spine tingling. “I love having you like this,” she said. He gave the faintest groan, and leaned his head back onto her shoulder. “So eager. So needy. So vulnerable. All mine.”

“Yours,” he agreed in a low purr. “Please, Hawke.”

“Please?”

“Touch me, please, Hawke, touch me - “

She obliged him generously, and his ache throbbed in satisfaction as a soft hand found his cock again, massaging him gently. He tried to speak again, to plead with her for more, but he could not find his voice, and he did not need to. Hawke’s grip moved up slowly, then back down more quickly. She began a rhythm - simple, but glorious. He would have given everything for her touch; even the slightest caress was heaven. It sent ripples of pleasure through his belly, boiling in his core, setting fire to his heart until a moan was torn from his throat.

“My beautiful, strong warrior,” she hissed into his ear. Her breath shot a tingle from his neck to his groin, and he gasped. Fenris gripped the edge of the tub, splashing bubbly water onto the floor. She chuckled. “You do so well,” she praised. “I’m so proud of you. My good boy.”

It was nothing like the way _he_ called him ‘good boy.’ She meant it, and the heartfelt sincerity of it was eons away from the memory of his Master. Those words on her lips tickled him in all sorts of ways, and he smiled weakly. “Yes, Hawke,” he sighed.

Hawke sped up, pumping him deftly beneath the water, with such skill that within minutes he found himself thrusting into her hand. “Good, good Fenris. So smart. So capable.” She took his earlobe between her teeth. He groaned, and though it made no difference in the bathwater, he knew he was oozing pleasure already. When she let go, she ran her tongue down his neck again. “I love you,” she whispered, yanking slightly on his scalp.

“I…” He tried to speak, but his voice was caught somewhere in his chest, and his entire body felt on fire with ecstasy. Her touch was everything. She was his air, his lifeline, his soul. She gave him hope where there had been none. She taught him things he thought he never deserved to know.

 _I love you, Hawke,_ he thought. _I love you, I have always loved you, I need you, I have always needed you, and oh Maker don’t stop -_

“Shh, I know,” she said, pouting playfully against his neck. “I know, my boy. I know. I love you, my good boy. I want you to come for me, love.” His chest leapt. They had barely started but he wasn’t far from the edge. How could she know that? How could she read him so well? It was unreal. “Can you do that for me, Fenris?”

The elf nodded wordlessly, desperate for more praise. He felt like he was floating, his skin alight all over where the water kissed him, and he felt held by it - warm and loved and understood. Safe. Her lips were soft and wet on his shoulder. Her free hand twisted itself into his sopping hair, and tugged, arching his neck backward so his head was on her shoulder. He moaned freely, loudly - the sound echoing in the tiny washroom, and making Hawke chuckle.

“That’s my boy,” she encouraged. “I know you’re close. I know. You’re safe. You’re good. You’re so good for me.” His chest heaved, his breathing shallow and his skin red and splotchy. “Yes, Fenris. Good. That’s it.” WIth a last whine, he felt the pressure burst, and the bliss wracked him, sending him into the most delightful state of shock. “Come,” she said one last time, and he did.

His hips bucked uncontrollably as he wailed, sloshing a lot of water out of the basin and rippling across the floor. His knuckles went white on the rim of the tub. Fenris’ voice scraped from the effort of his elongated moan, the tenor of it cracking as his orgasm kept him gripped in its clutches. “M… Maaaker… yes, Hawke,” he said finally. “Maker. Th - Thank... thank you.” He was shaking. Hawke laughed, finally letting go of his cock to hug him close. The sudden absence of her touch made him shudder. The warm water felt very strange around his cock now, and a little uncomfortable. He grinned dreamily. “Hawke,” he muttered. “I love you.”

“I know,” she said, pressing a fat kiss to his cheek and tracing circles on his chest. “You’re wonderful.” He sniggered, blushing furiously as his heart rate slowly returned to normal. “How are you feeling?”

“Very silly,” he admitted. “I should really…”

“Nonsense.” Fenris had begun to pull away from her (dampening the floor further still), but she tugged him back against her chest. “You don’t have to do anything. There’s nothing to feel silly about. If cuddling in a bath makes you smile, then that’s what you’re gonna do.”

“This water hardly feels sanitary anymore, Hawke,” he stated flatly, wrinkling his nose. And besides…” He looked over the edge of the tub. “We’ve made quite a mess.”

Hawke giggled. “We have, haven’t we?” Then she gasped. “Oh, no!” She tilted and reached off to the side, and he leaned forward to give her the space she needed. When she’d reeled herself back in, he saw she was holding the history book he’d been reading. He grinned sheepishly. It was soaking wet, and the pages were completely stuck together. When she flipped it open, they saw that the ink was running, bleeding from page to page and almost entirely illegible.

“I had a feeling books were not really made to be brought into washrooms,” he sneered, his ears very pink and his expression disapproving. “And it seems I was correct.”

With a sigh, Hawke tossed the book to the floor again. The thud paired with a loud splash, and they watched it lie there uselessly for a moment. “Darn,” she said. “You’re getting so good at that, though.”

“What?”

She swatted his bicep playfully. “Reading, dummy. You’re really doing so well.”

“I - ” He did not know how to respond. “Thank you,” he muttered under his breath.”I… am grateful for your teaching.”

“Bah!” she exclaimed. “It’s all you, my beautiful boy. All you. Don’t lay your brilliance on my teaching. No, Fenris. You’re doing so well because you’re a fast learner and you can do anything.”

He looked down at the bubbly surface of the water. He could just barely make out a hazy image of his lap through the suds. He did not want her to see the tears that welled behind his eyes, so he kept his head down. “Thank you,” he muttered in a strained whisper. “I… do appreciate it.”

“I love you,” she said firmly. “You are so important to me, Fenris.”

Instinctively, he pulled his knees up to his chest. He felt vulnerable, and terrified for some reason. His heart was hammering. He felt rather hot despite sitting in a tub of cool soapy water.

“Are you alright?”

“I… don't know.” His heart was hammering, and he found breathing strangely difficult, as though his chest were constricted.

"Hey," she said calmly. "Everything is alright. I love you. You're safe here."

Fenris shook his head. "I've never been safe," he hissed. "And I have never been important." He heard her breath catch behind him, but did not look back at her. Instead he closed his eyes. "Every time I feel..." He swallowed. "You... make me feel... too much, Hawke. I know I should be used to it by now. I know I am pathetic, but - "

"Don't you dare say that about yourself, Fenris." Hawke gripped his arm tight. "There's no rule about how long your adjustment should take. If you are still panicking ten years from now, it will be alright. It won't change anything. I will still love you, and your fears though unwarranted will still be okay to feel."

He snorted. "When you are kind, I lash out. When you touch me, I panic. It's... hardly fair to you." He felt a sinking in his stomach as despair struck him.

The elf made as though to stand, but Hawke held him back. He stopped, poised with one hand on the rim of the tub. "It's not up to you what's fair for me," she said, her voice cracking a little.  "I love you, Fenris, and to me, any time with you is worth it. No matter how sad you are, or how little you want to give. I went into this knowing it would take you time and effort, and I am okay with that."

"How can you be? You deserve - "

"I deserve you exactly as you are," Hawke interjected. "It doesn't matter how long it takes you, my love, because I've got all the time in the world for you." He looked at her finally, his eyes shadowy and sad. She wore the softest expression as she reached up to run her hands through his sopping wet hair.. "I'm not going anywhere. No matter how long you need. This was never going to be short term. Not on my end, anyway. So stop rushing yourself." She smiled, tears brimming. His lips parted as he watched her, almost disbelieving.  "’Cause… you've got time."

His heart was sore. Fenris swallowed, and his throat felt thick. “I…” He had no idea how to respond. There was nothing he could do or say to express his gratitude or his love. He sighed heavily, exhaling slowly.

Something cool trickled over his scalp, and he flinched. “Sorry!” she giggled. “There’s still suds in your hair.”

Fenris blinked at her. “Yours, as well,” he pointed out.

She raked water through his hair, and he shivered. It felt wonderful. Then he let out a breath of laughter. “You realize I ejaculated in this water, Hawke.”

“Oh Maker,” she squealed, crinkling her nose - but she was not deterred. The realization did not stop her from washing him. He shook his head. He felt too relaxed now to care about sanitation.

“Can we lie here all day?” he asked, leaning back into her with a frown.

“Aha!” she exclaimed triumphantly, splashing the bubbly water at him. “You do like bubble baths!”

He scowled, trying to hide his grin. “It is a… new development, to be certain. But I... cannot deny there is a certain charm to them.”

“Fenris likes bubble baths!” she squeaked. Then, much more loudly as though announcing this to all of Kirkwall, “ _Fenris likes bubble baths!_ ”

“Hush,” he snapped.

“Never.” She kissed his neck.

They sat there for some time, silently caressing one another’s hands, until Hawke finally spoke again. “So…” His ears perked up. “Wanna read something a little more… dry?”

It was his turn to splash her. “Arse,” he teased. She winked.

Rolling his eyes, he finally stood. She pouted. He extended her a hand, water trailing down his arm and rolling from his fingertips. She took it, and stood with him.

Fenris captured her tongue, and she moaned, snaring his silver hair again in her fists. He was growing hard again, and he wanted her to know it.

She gasped when the erection nagged at the apex of her wet thighs. “Bed,” she demanded. It was not a question.

He growled, nipped at her jaw, then grinned deviously. “Lead the way.”

And she did. She always did, and he was always happy to follow.


End file.
